Happy 9th Birthday Little Ladies #R2BC

This last week has all been about my little ladies birthday. They have turned 9 and the celebration feels as if it has gone on forever. I think they have had a good time but we are all ready for the end of school now as the tiredness has arrived along with the heat.

Having a birthday on a school day is never the best thing, so we arranged for their birthday treat with friends to be on the Saturday and let them open their presents spread over the weekend and on Monday too. They went to a new craft shop with a friend each on the Saturday and made either mosaics or decopatch, I also had a go at the decopatch and really enjoyed myself, I'll definitely do it again.

Sadly Miss E's friend was feeling quite poorly so we didn't head on to McDonalds and the park as we had planned but instead went home for an impromptu birthday lunch and play with their local friends. I then treated them to a trip to our Orangery tea room for an ice cream and milkshake, they felt very grown-up girls just the five of them together and had lots of fun searching in the fountain for lost coins.

The Beach - Where I'm Happiest!

This week I am on holiday down in Poole and unfortunately, the weather has not been the fabulous sunshine that I associate with this neck of the woods. Growing up as a child we holidayed in Bournemouth (just next door) every year and it was always blazing sunshine and lots of trips to the beach. My love of a sandy beach grew from there and the idea of walking along the prom looking out to sea on an evening, with all the bright lights of the pier and the calm swish of the waves crashing in grew as one of my favourite things to do.

I loved this area and being by the sea so much that I moved to Bournemouth for four years whilst I was at Uni and created so many wonderful memories - diving into the sea at 4am after the summer ball, sunbathing whilst I should have been revising for my exams and cliff walking with my then-boyfriend.

Not Yummy, Not Scummy, Just A Mummy!

I have been wondering recently why it is that women want to segregate themselves into two very distinct camps. First, we have the yummy mummies, you know the ones - perfect hair, perfect kids and perfect homes.  Think Stepford wives and the typical commercial housewife of the 1950s. Then come their polar opposite in the scummy mummies - these are the mums who feel they can never quite achieve yummy mummy status and therefore why bother with the effort, just label yourself a scummy mummy and you have a get-out clause to not worry about the house or your personal appearance.

Well, I refuse to fall into either one of these categories.  You can just call me 'A Mummy'.  Sometimes yummy, when I have the energy and can be arsed to make an effort and sometimes my house is completely scummy, like at those times when life just gets on top of me and I know the best thing to let go of is the housework. No one is going to get hurt because my shower needs a jolly good scrub after all!

Yes, that really is my scummy shower before I spent over an hour on Monday with a brillo pad

and a jar of astonish - it worked a treat!

So why do we label ourselves? Where does this pressure come from? Why can't we all just be mummies together and accept we are all unique and imperfect beings. Are labels like this ever helpful? I seriously doubt it.

I expect some of the pressure is media-induced, of course, celebs exasperate the situation by pinging back into their size 8 jeans a week after having their babies and the addition of a chef, housekeeper and nanny would all make the aim of being a yummy mummy considerably easier. But really, do we have to buy into this media rubbish?  Well, our lives are considerably better if we live in sterile beige homes with kids dressed in Boden and mummy is a beautiful slim walking advert for Gap?

NO. I am making a stand.  I refuse to be labelled.  My name is Michelle and I am a real person, a real Mummy.  Sometimes I am brilliant, you can call me SuperMich and my kids must think all their Christmases have come at once and other times I am absolutely crap and I just want to stay in my PJs and slouch for the day.  

Do you know what they call that?  Normal, average, OK, regular, run-of-the-mill, mediocre and they all work for me.....

Who are you?  Have you thought about that lately?